Little Amelia
by It'sNotUnusual
Summary: This is the story of what happened to Amy during the 12 years the Doctor made her waiting. Enjoy!
1. Prologue

Prologue

A/N: I do not own Amy or any other characters or merchandise of Doctor Who whatsoever.

The nine year old Scottish girl knelt by her bed, eyes closed, hands clasped together.

"There's a… crack in my wall… Aunt Sharon says it's just an ordinary crack, but I know it's not, 'cause at night there are voices. So please, _please_, could you send someone to fix it? Or a policeman? Or…" A strange vworping sound cut across Amelia Jessica Pond's prayer to Santa.

Her eyes snapped open and Amelia murmured, "Be right back," before running into the garden, armed with only a torch.

A man, wet and wearing a torn, jacket-less suit, emerged from a sideways 1950s police box. The box had crashed into the old garden shed, and completely destroyed the structure.

Amelia, slightly bewildered by the whole affair, took him into the house, where he introduced himself to her as the Doctor.

The Doctor then told her he wanted an apple. So Amelia brought him an apple. The Doctor took a hungry bite, but spat the fruit out almost immediately. He then requested a yoghurt- again one gulp and the food was spat out.

This sequence of events continued- bacon, baked beans and bread and butter were all consumed and rejected in much the same way. Finally, the Doctor helped by searching the fridge- and pulling out fish fingers and custard!

A few minutes later, he sat at the table, fishing the fish into a bowl of custard. Across the table, Amelia ate ice cream calmly, completely unbothered by the happenings of the last half hour.

After the Doctor (_finally_) ate his fill, Amelia showed him the crack in her wall. The Doctor, watched closely by Amelia, examined the crack. First he took out a long silver metal thing with a blue tip at the end and a few buttons on the side, and pointed it at the wall, pressing a button- the thing made a strange sort of whirring sound. Then he took the empty glass by Amelia's bed and held the open end against the crack, pressing his ear against the base and listening intently for a few seconds. Finally, his analysis complete, the Doctor reported that it was no ordinary crack- it was, in fact, a crack in space and time.

The Doctor rushed back to the TARDIS, promising Amelia that he'd be back in 5 minutes.

Holding him to his promise, Amelia packed for a long journey, and waited. And waited, and waited, and waited…

8.30 turns to 9… 9 turns into 10… 10 turned into 11… and still no Doctor came for her.

Amelia knew then, at precisely 11:03:29, that no adult was ever worth trusting.


	2. The Day After The Doctor

The Day After The Doctor

_**A/N: I don't own a speck of dust that's related to Doctor Who. **_

Aunt Sharon rattled down the stairs, and slammed her sharp fists against the bedroom door. "_Amelia_!" she screeched. "If I have to tell you to get up _one more time…_" Aunt Sharon was a tall woman, and quite thin. She had the same vibrant red hair as Amelia, and never had been married. Somehow- and Amelia had noticed this quite a lot- she never seemed to be able to find a boyfriend who could put up with her naggy manner.

"_Amelia_!" she yelled again, much more threateningly.

"Fine…" Amelia groaned. "I'll be down in a minute." Amelia could tell that Aunt Sharon was glaring at the door. She did that a lot- it was a shameless way for her to be angry at Amelia. Amelia knew that Aunt Sharon did it, and Aunt Sharon knew that Amelia knew. But they both pretended that Amelia was ignorant- it was much easier for both of them.

Amelia threw her uniform on- a grey skirt, black tights, a white blouse and a dark blue jacket. Amelia hated it- blue did not go with red hair _at all_.

Amelia trudged down the stairs, coming her hair sleepily, her eyes still half-closed.

"Hello, Amelia!" her aunt said, an annoyed tinge to her voice. "You're old enough to make your own breakfast, as I keep telling you."

"Yes, aunt," Amelia mumbled.

"Now, I really must head off for work, so you'll need to walk today."

"Aunt!"

"Amelia, please. I'm already late- all thanks to you. Have a good day. You'll need to walk home too- I'm required to stay late this evening."

"But aunt!" Amelia said desperately.

"Now, Amelia! Really. Don't be so childish." With that, the front door closed behind the middle-aged woman and Aunt Sharon's car engine started up.

Amelia groaned, getting some cereal out. It was only 7.15. How early could her work start to make 7.15 _late_? Amelia shook her head, serenely eating a spoonful of cereal.

That evening, as Amelia finally started to fall asleep, she remembered the Doctor. That strange, but incredible man. He had a time machine, and a sort of laser stick and…

Amelia closed her eyes tightly, willing herself to forget. After all, there was no point in ever hoping he'd return. No adults ever did. Her parents never would- so why should he be any different?

_**A/N: So…? What'choo think? I know that the last chapter was more a recap of 'The Eleventh Hour'. That was really just a reminder for the people who forgot, or who didn't watch the eppie at all. Anyway. R&R! **_


	3. A Drawing

A DrawingA/N: I don't own an element of Doctor Who. :'( And apologies for the momentary silence. Homework and all that jazz.

Friday couldn't come quickly enough for Amelia. It had been three days since the Doctor had disappeared. But he had only gone physically- he was still firmly there mentally. He seemed to be appearing in all her thoughts. It didn't matter whether she was working out if 262 was divisible by three or where she had left her PE kit. He was always there saying things like 'It's going to be fine' or 'Do I even look like people?'. Really, Amelia thought, finally remembering where she'd left her PE kit, it would be so much more helpful if he told her what she wanted to know… like whether she'd left her Maths book at Aunt Sharon's or not.

Amelia, despite five years of living with her aunt, had never been able to call the large-ish house in Leadworthe 'home'. 'Home' was the house in Inverness with its creaky stairs and slightly cold mornings. Aunt Sharon's house just wasn't the same. It was warm, and the stairs didn't creak, and everything was always clean… maybe that was the problem. The place was like a temporary lodging- not a place anyone really expected a child to grow up in.

Driving home- Amelia's Friday luxury- Amelia finally found the courage to tell Aunt Sharon about the Doctor.

"Aunt Sharon?" she started nervously.

Aunt Sharon sighed exasperately. "Not now, Amelia. I'm trying to concentrate on the road- and you jabbering on _isn't helping_!"

"But, Aunt Sharon!" It's important!"

Aunt Sharon sighed again, as she pulled into the space outside the house. "Amelia. I know this may be hard for you to understand. You don't have to believe me- and I'm sure you won't- but in perspective, tiny arguments with your friends are not that important." She started to get out of the car, but Amelia caught her arm.

"No! Not that. Please, listen! On Tuesday, a man came in a time machine called… well, he called it a TARDIS. And he landed in the garden, but the TARDIS was broken, so it smashed into the garden shed…" Amelia trailed off at the half-angry, half resigned look on Aunt Sharon's face.

"Now, Amelia. I don't mind that you broke the garden shed- we all get a little excited sometimes, and it was old anyway. But you _cannot_ create someone to blame it on! It is a bad habit!"

"But I didn't-" The slamming of the car door cut Amelia off. "… make it up…" she finished in a whisper. Amelia slowly climbed out of the car and closed the door.

Aunt Sharon stopped her just before they went into the house. "Now, Amelia, this hurts me as much as it hurts you, but you're nine now. At your age, you really must stop this fairy story telling. Please go to your room for thirty minutes to reflect on what you've done."

Amelia walked up the 15 stairs to her bedroom. She wouldn't have minded the 'punishment' so much if she had homework. But Miss Reed had been generous and let them off on weekend homework.

Sinking onto her bed, Amelia silently cursed Miss Reed's kindness. Banished here for half an hour. The peace would be nice on a normal day- thirty minutes all to herself. No Aunt Sharon barging in every five minutes to check if Amelia wanted a drink or a snack, or some help.

When Aunt Sharon did do that, Amelia so wanted to snap at her, 'All I want is for you to LEAVE ME ALONE!'

But of course, Amelia didn't. Despite what she seemed, Aunt Sharon did care and wanted Amelia to be happy. She groaned. Twenty five minutes with nothing to do. She'd read all the books on her bookshelf so many times, and had no schoolthings to tear pages out and doodle.

Doodle… wait… drawing… what if? Amelia grabbed a pencil from the pile on her desk and a piece of paper from another pile and started to draw. First she started with a body like shape, and then moved to the top right area of the page, and started drawing a big rectangle, which evolved into a large box with a light on top. Amelia then pulled the pile of coloured pencils towards her, sifting through it for a dark blue, light blue, black, brown and a flesh colour.

Half an hour later, Aunt Sharon allowed herself to come into Amelia's room. "You've been busy!" she said, coming to the desk. "What's this?"

"The Doctor!" Amelia told her earnestly. "And his TARDIS!"

Aunt Sharon sighed. "Oh, Amelia." She took one look at the girl's enthusiastic face, and all the will to scold her again went out of her. "Very well. You can draw your pictures of the Doctor without my intervention. Dinner will be ready in an hour. Please finish all homework before then."

Aunt Sharon walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.

_**A/N: Well? Pretty pwease, press that little button? It won't take much out of your day! Pwease?**_


	4. Psychiatrist Number One

Pyschiatrist Number One

_**A/N: Nope. Not a speck is mine. Wish 'twas. Enjoy. **_

It was the next Saturday, the Doctor was still in Amelia's head, and Amelia was in the car, being driven to an unknown location. Aunt Sharon seemed to be on a mission- she also looked sick and tired of hearing about the Doctor and his magical TARDIS.

"Here we are!" Aunt Sharon announced cheerily. Amelia examined the small building through the window. 'Jepson Psychiatrists'. Amelia looked at Aunt Sharon in horror.

"Aunt?"

"Not now, Amelia. Come on."

Amelia unwillingly swung her legs out of the car and walked with Aunt Sharon up to the door. It was a very clean and white place, and Amelia felt herself getting some form of vertigo, even though her feet were both firmly on the ground.

A teen girl was sitting in one of the large soft white chairs in the waiting room, swinging her legs peacefully. "Hi!" she said. Amelia spun around to look at her in surprise, as Aunt Sharon went to talk to the secretary. "My name's Gemma! Are you here for Jeppie?" At Amelia's confused look, she expanded. "Miss Jepson, really! But we all call her Jeppie!"

Amelia sat down in the chair next to Gemma. "Why?"

"'Cos Miss Jepson is so formal! Jeppie suits her so much more. She _wants_ us to call us Jeppie. Anyway, what're you in here for? I got five months for being mugged."

'Got five months'? It sounded like a prison, not a psychiatrist's. Not that there was much difference between the two, but still…

"So?" Gemma urged. "What'd'you get?"

"Imaginary friend. Well, Aunt Sharon thinks it is. But I know he's real!"

"You could be an author!" Amelia was starting to become sick of Gemma's always-jolly attitude. It was past optimism. "You're so imaginative and creative!"

Amelia stalked off to Aunt Sharon. The Doctor _WAS REAL_. Just because everyone else couldn't tell… she'd never listen to anyone else… and if this 'Miss Jepson'- Amelia refused to call her Jeppie- didn't believe her, well, Amelia had a reserve plan of action. And she wasn't afraid to put it into action.

"Hello, Amelia!" Miss Jepson smiled, as Amelia walked into the room. Like the waiting room, everything was white, and the chairs were exactly the same make, comfort and colour. "Sit down."

Amelia grudgingly obeyed, glaring at her.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"My aunt!" Amelia snapped. "She won't believe me!"

"Dear, dear. What doesn't she believe?"

"That the Doctor exists!"

"And who's the Doctor?"

"He's a man, who came to my garden, but disappeared. He had a TARDIS- a time machine, and-"

"Amelia, Amelia! Your aunt is right! Your imagination is working overtime to create the father or older brother you always wished you had! It must be so hard for you, being an orphan, but- OW!"

During this speech, Miss Jepson had put her arm encouragingly on Amelia's shoulder, obviously thinking that because she was nine, she was harmless. But in one quick movement, on the word 'orphan', Amelia had snapped her head round and bitten Miss Jepson.

"Amelia!"

"Yes?"

"That hurt! You naughty girl!"

Amelia shrugged.

"Amelia! Surely your aunt- who I have had the honour of talking to- does not encourage this behaviour!"

"She doesn't say the Doctor doesn't exist."

"I didn't say that, Amelia!"

"You indicated it."

"Amelia. This session is _over_! Please tell your aunt I will not be lending my services to the Ponds any longer."

Amelia, grinning, skipped out. Aunt Sharon, at the look on her face, beamed. "Well? How was it?"

"She said…" Amelia took a deep breath in her determination to relay the message exactly as she was told it. "That she would not be… lending her services to… oh yes! To the Ponds any longer."

Aunt Sharon slowly, and to Amelia's great entertainment, turned purple. "She said _what_? I'm going in to talk to her!"

Amelia sat down next to Gemma, who, remarkably, was still there. "Why'd Jeppie say that, then? She's so nice! My family's been coming for generations, and she never _ever_ gets angry!"

Amelia glared at her. She was not in a very good mood. A random woman her aunt had paid to talk to Amelia had just called the Doctor a figment of her imagination (or meant it, anyway) and now this really really annoying girl. Amelia was at the end of her tether. "OH JUST SHUT UP!" she bellowed.

Gemma looked astonished, but obeyed. She returned peacefully to her book, but said, from behind the pages, "I can see why Jeppie expelled your lot." Amelia made a face at the book, which received the reply of "I saw that."

A few minutes later, Aunt Sharon stalked out of Miss Jepson's room. "Come on, Amelia," she snapped. "We're going!"

Amelia, grinning broadly at the mayhem she had caused, obediently trotted after Aunt Sharon.

_**A/N: Well? Like it? If you do, you should click that little button. If you don't, a button bunny will cry for evermore! You wouldn't want that, would you? Unless you were Voldemort or someone. Which I'm sure you're not! So… CLICKY CLICKY CLICK! **_


	5. Dressing Up

**A/N: Yeah, I'm actually writing this again. I know. Weird, yes? Yes. I just wanted to get this finished, cos I've got quite a few rather dead WIPs sitting on my account, and I don't really want to delete them, but I don't want to just leave them there either. **

**It has literally been a year since I last updated. Wow that's embarrassing. So sorry about that. **

**Here we go! This one's slightly more in Rory's POV to start, but that's hardly a problem. **

**OH! A few weeks ago, I went to see Arthur Darvill in Doctor Faustus at the Globe. Sooooooo good. Really recommended, if you live close enough. If you live in America or Scotland or something, maybe not. Anyway. **

**Disclaimer: I own naught. **

Amelia met Rory's gaze. "Just do it," she said calmly.

He stared back at her, baffled. Completely and utterly baffled as to what she was going on about – no, _had _been going on about. For the past few months. Someone called a 'Raggedy Doctor', someone who came to visit her a few months ago in the middle of the night.

Rory was so convinced that it was just a dream, but you didn't argue with Amelia when she got into the frenzied state that she did whenever he came up. Her room was starting to fill up with papier mache models of someone in a torn light blue shirt and dark brown trousers. Someone with a slightly wild expression.

He didn't understand her obsession with it, but really, he didn't need to. He just needed to nod and smile.

From a corner of the bedroom, Mels was watching. Rory could tell she was rolling her eyes. Not that he was looking at her. He really wasn't. He tried to ignore her as much as possible, but when she was Amelia's best friend, it wasn't really an easy task.

"Stop complaining, Rory, and just get on with it," Mels finally sighed.

Rory turned to finally look at her now, not bothering to glare but not smiling either. "Why should I?"

"Cause Amelia's telling you to. Put it on."

Groaning, Rory reluctantly took the clothes and slipped into the bathroom.

XxXxX

Mels moved forward to sit on the bed, her head resting on her palms, staring at Amelia. "Meli, please tell me. What's your obsession with this man?"

"I've told you! He came into my garden, and he had a time machine. Only he told me to wait, 'cause it was fixing. He told me to wait five minutes, and it's been five months. I've just got to keep on hoping…" Amelia knew it sounded crazy. It sounded mad, even to her, and she was the one saying it. But it was the truth.

"You do know how ridiculous that sounds, don't you?"

Amelia sighed. Everything was so much easier before he'd decided to crash in her garden. Boring, definitely, but easier too. Sometimes she wished that she'd not gone down to look. Or gone to bed earlier. Or _something _.

And the second those thoughts came into her head, they were immediately washed away with how exciting it had been, how strange to know that the crack in her wall, with the voices, was actually a prison. And an alien prison at that. She knew that she was about the only person on Earth to be able to say that.

It just carried on going in this circle – first she hated him for messing up her life, then she was so grateful for showing her even the tiniest glimpse of something past normal. Around and around that thought carousel she went.

Amelia sighed, looking at Mels again. She was still there, waiting for an answer, when the door was pushed open and Rory reappeared, in the costume they'd forced him into so many times before.

It suited him. In a weird way, it did suit him.

"Get me out of this," Rory grumbled.

"No, leave him in it for a bit, Amy!" Mels said. "It works."

"In case you were _wondering_," Rory said, sounded very annoyed. "I don't plan on being a homeless man."

Amelia and Mels shared a look, cracking up. The indignity in his voice was classic. Despite the fact that they'd forced him into this a thousand times, it was still as hilarious as the first.

Rory stormed out of the room, returning a few minutes later with his old clothes on. He thrust the costume at Mels, snapping, "The next time you want to play pretend doctors, don't get me involved."

Mels and Amelia watched from the living room window as he stormed off, before bursting into hysterics.

**A/N: There we go. Light and fluffy. **

**In case you didn't get it, I think Mels is an epic character. Not Melody/River Song, but **_**Mels**_**. Such a clever character, that. **

**Anyway. Thoughts? **


	6. The Second Psychiatrist

**A/N: Hiyee! We're back, with another update. Sorry this is so short, I was trying to get this out as fast as possible. **

**Without further ado, here we go. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. **

Amelia glared at Rory, but he was still unrelentingly staring back. They were both ten years old now, and her aunt had decided to give the psychiatrists another try.

This didn't go down well with Amelia.

Unfortunately, it went down very well with Rory, who'd always thought her Raggedy Doctor was more than a little absurd.

And so they were here, in a staring match, trying to best the other. It didn't really matter, Amelia couldn't fight her aunt's final word, so she was going to go to the psychiatrists whether she liked it or not. But, there would be some personal satisfaction in besting Rory.

There was always personal satisfaction in besting Rory.

And finally he blinked, causing Amelia to cheer. She'd won, again. She always seemed to beat him, in everything they did. She did have a sneaking suspicion that he let her win, but she tried not to dwell too much on that. She didn't want to know – if he did, that is – that Rory had a crush on her.

Mels had crowed more times than necessary that he did, but Amelia refused to listen to her. After all, it wasn't right. Her and Rory were just really close friends. Him developing a small crush on her, that would just be weird. No. Definitely no crushes. Just friends.

Nice and simple.

"Off you go," Rory said, his eyes still following hers. "Psychiatrist time."

"I don't need to go," Amelia deadpanned.

"Your aunt thinks you do. And so, off you go."

"Why do you care?"

"I don't," he shrugged. "It's just nice to see you not get your way in everything for once."

Amelia stood up, a wounded look in her eyes. "I don't get my way in everything! In fact, I rarely ever get it."

Rory snorted. "Yeah, right. Off you go."

But Amelia sat down again, her eyes boring into his. "Why'd you think that I do?"

Rory sighed, looking down. "I dunno… everything just seems to go your way in life."

"Maybe you're just unlucky?" she laughed.

She was joking about it, but she knew Rory was right. She did get her way in most things. She got the coveted best friend, she got the caring family – even if her aunt was a bit strict, she still doted on Amelia – and she got on with pretty much everyone in the town.

She even got the alien to land in her back garden.

That one, she didn't plan for. But the others, they were just manipulation. They were her knowing how to get people on her side, how to make people like her. It was nothing more than people skills.

Rory on the other hand only had a select few friends. He was shy when meeting new people, and hated contact with adults. Loathed it. He'd just back down into his shell, and wait until everyone went away before he emerged from it.

Amelia did find it endearing, if a little awkward to deal with him sometimes. She'd point to him, showing off something that he'd done, some achievement, some joke he'd told her, _anything_, and he'd blush and shut up until all the admirers had vanished.

And she'd tried talking to him about it, but it really was to no avail. Nothing worked. Absolutely nothing.

She didn't even know if she wanted anything to work. Wasn't it nice, being in the spotlight all the time, and then having that backbone of support from Rory to fall back on? Yes.

But she wasn't so selfish to want that for Rory. She wanted him to have a good life too, to enjoy it. To not be scared of any unfamiliar human contact.

"Amelia!" her aunt called. "Amelia! Time to go!"

"C'mon," Amelia smiled to Rory. "You should go. Who knows? Maybe this one'll help? Could even help you."

Rory shrugged, picking up his bag. "I don't care, Amy."

"I know you don't."

XxXxX

Her second psychiatrist was just as annoying as the first.

So she bit him too.

**A/N: Couldn't resist that ending. :) After all, it does say in 'Eleventh Hour' that she kept biting her four psychiatrists… **

**By the way, I have no idea when this story's gonna end, how long it's gonna be. So just bear with me. It'll be over when the Doctor comes back 12 years on, but I don't know how many chapters that'll take… I don't have a plan for it. **

**Just so you know. **

**G-B-C xx **


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